An Unfortunate Situation
by fanatic218
Summary: Wes' nightmare comes true in the form of Alex's law firm coming under siege. Can he and Travis work together to save the woman he still loves? The rekindling of Wes & Alex, and some strong Wes/Travis friendship and loyalty no slash .
1. Chapter 1

_A/N~ This will be a short story, and an unusually short chapter for me. The next few will be longer, but this is really just to set the scene. It's been bouncing around in my head for a while, so I hope you guys enjoy it!_

It had been five minutes since Captain had called Travis into his office, alone, and Wes' initial mild interest was morphing into agitated suspense. The two had been standing in the break room arguing over which side of the counter the new microwave should be placed, when Captain's face appearing in the window. When both detectives made a move for the door, he signaled them to stop, and pointed directly to Travis, cocking his finger again in a come hither motion. Making a crack about some kind of sexual harassment issue, Wes watched his partner go, trying to figure out what the deadly serious look in the Captain's eyes was. He didn't let it bother his too much though, for if there was a serious problem, they both would have been called in.

Walking back to his desk, he glanced over to Captain's office, watching the two in deep conversation. He stopped dead in his place when he saw Travis run a hand over his face and cover his mouth and chin with his hand, his tell of deep stress. A moment later, the two partners made eye contact across the department. It was broken not two seconds later when Travis stood and drew the curtains.

Now in his seat, puzzling over what the hell was going on, Wes began to notice the emptiness of the floor. Only two detectives and a handful of officers were mulling around, but they made no conversation between themselves, and while he was aware most people avoided conversation with him (why, he had yet to figure out, though Travis had quite a strong opinion), anyone running papers or files back and forth went out of their way to walk around him, as if on eggshells.

"Would someone _please_ tell me what is going on?" he said with a little too much forced pleasantry. His question was met with complete silence, and all the officers quickly dropped their eyes to their desks. Asking a second time, he whipped around upon hearing Travis clear his throat. When had he left the office?

"We have case," he said cryptically, gravely.

"Thank you! You're finally giving me some useful information."

"Let's go, man." There was something about Travis' voice, posture, face, that was making him very uneasy. When Wes remained sitting, Travis held out his hand.

"Give me the keys, Wes. I'm driving this time." His voice left no room for argument, though it wasn't harsh or demanding. Wes stood and handed over the keys, following the uncharacteristically somber man out the double doors.

It wasn't until the car was running and they were pulling out the parking lot that the two spoke again. Wes, unnerved by Travis in the drivers seat, both literally and literally as far as this new case was beginning, leveled with him.

"Travis, I need to know what is going on. Where ever we are going, we have to be on the same page."

Travis, on the other hand, had been praying for Wes to get a call from Captain so he would explain it all. This was going to be a tough conversation, and though he knew as Wes' partner, and dare he say, "friend," it needed to be from him. Fidgeting around a bit to work up the nerve to answer, he began, "It's a hostage crisis."

_Okay_, thought Wes. _Baby steps._ "Where?"

"Three armed gunmen confirmed so far, with eighteen hostages. They've made no demands as of yet, and haven't any clear motive. Tech team said that they are on the working on remote access to the security cameras as we speak. They have access to the cameras on the floor they are on, and I don't doubt they know that and would be able to see us coming up the stairs or elevator," he answered immediately.

Wes nodded. "Alright, that's a start. Are we taking point on arrival?"

"I am," Travis said softly after a moment. "Captain said you shouldn't be there, but I thought you would want to be. Need to be. That was the condition, though. He wants to fall back, stay out of it, and under no circumstances go in." Travis was biting his lip hard, hoping Wes would understand without him having to say the words.

And he did. Everyone knew he was the most levelheaded detective on the force, and the thought of him being removed from a case in fear of him acting irrationally was laughable. But Captain knew what would make him lose his head, and so did Travis. He knew, but he couldn't let it be true.

"I didn't miss the fact that you did not answer where we are going," he replied, his voice too calm for Travis' liking.

He swallowed.

"Alex's law firm."

_A/N~ I am so relieved to finally be putting this down in writing! I love Wes and Alex's relationship and have been rooting for them to get back together from episode 1. I've had this idea for a while and I sincerely hope you guys are as excited about it as I am! Please leave me a review!_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N~ Here ya go! I tried to make Wes & Travis' characters as similar as I could to the show. Let me know about what you think of this chapter! I love all your reviews!_

Skidding to a sudden stop at the crime scene tape, Wes was out of the car before Travis had even moved his hand to the gear shift.

"Flannigan! Catch me up," he barked. Travis couldn't find it in him to remind Wes of Captain's instructions to not get involved.

"Tech team just got remote access to the security feeds, and we are monitoring from there. We've chosen not to shut their access down until we are ready to go in so they are less prepared for a surprise attack. I was waiting for one of you to make the first call to establish contact," he detective said, handing the case over to the two men. Travis nodded.

"Listen up! I need a direct line set up to these guys. Tech, send everything you've got back to Kendall at the station so we can get an ID on our three gunmen. Do the feeds show us the hostages?" Travis yelled out. Catching a man's eye in the crowd surrounding the tape, Wes walked off in his direction, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He'd let Travis take point on this, for now.

"Lie to me Frankie," Wes asked his old friend. Frankie had been with the firm since before Wes had graduated high school, and had been the most faithful and esteemed paralegal ever since. "Tell me Alex took a personal day, or an early lunch break. Tell me she isn't in that building, please," he nearly begged.

Slowly, regretfully, the man shook his head. He could say no words that would bring comfort to the man he had gotten to truly know. Nodding in understanding, he tried, unsuccessfully, to push the thought of a man holding a gun to the woman he still loved despite all they had been through.

"Then tell me what happened."

"I went to pick a client up from the airport when I got a call from Dan. We were talking about a merger we have coming up later this week when I heard people start to scream." Frankie took a moment to compose himself before continuing. "Dan was in his office off to the side of the floor, so he gave me a few details before they . . . Three shooters, black gloves and masks, all men. They were dressed like normal business people touring the firm, and then all of a sudden, they whipped out their disguises and guns. They forced everyone into the board room, forcefully if they didn't comply, and one stayed in there with them while the other two walked around the floor. When the saw Dan on the phone, they assumed it was the police.

"I listened as they shot him, Wes. He was there, then he wasn't. If I wasn't at the airport, I would have been in his office discussing the same thing we had been two minutes before." Frankie then became very quiet, and very grave.

"Get them out, my boy."

/

Travis couldn't take his eyes off the screen in front of him. In his mind, he was running down any reason he could to keep Wes out of the tech van, because the image he would be met with would push the carefully composed man right over the pro-verbal edge. Probably the literal one as well.

What Travis saw was seventeen hostages crowded around the table in the conference room, hands flat on the mahogany, heads tilted downward. From the angle the camera had, he could not clearly see many profiles, but one was quite distinct. Even more clear than Alex's face in the room was the purpling bruise on her cheekbone. Finally pulling away with a deep breath, he talked to the first response officers and hostage negotiation. They confirmed a line with a direct connection to the phone in the conference room, and Travis began to dial the number when the doors to the conference room opened and the other two suspects carelessly dragged in the eighteenth hostage, soon be identified as Daniel Rodgers. He man wasn't moving, and Travis presumed the worst until he saw a shallow, but steady, rise and fall of the man's chest.

"You ready?" Flannigan asked. Travis picked up the phone again, and the others grabbed their headphones and keyed in.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

/

Every head snapped to the phone in the middle of the table on the first ring, and no hostage could take their eyes off of it. The man who seemed to be leader stepped forward, roughly pushing two hostages out of his way to get to the phone.

"LAPD, nice of you to make an appearance. You're on speaker, so say hello to my new friends."

"Hey then, how's everybody doin'?" Travis said into the phone, channeling his talent of putting people at ease and seem unthreatening. He and rest of the team intently watched the monitor for any changes in the man's behavior. He chuckled.

"Most of us are doing well, for now anyway. What do I call you?"

"Travis. And now we don't have equal footing. What's your name?" he asked back. The man paused before answering.

"Greg."

"Greg. Hey man, so what you need? You said _most_ of you are okay - do we need to send up any medical supplies?" Hopefully they would agree to them sending up an officer, or an officer dressed as a doctor at the least, to bring medical supplies up and care for the wounded.

"Nice try Travis, but I will send them to you, but you would have to do something for me first," Greg said, a sick smile on his face that made Travis want to throw something.

"Which would be what?" he amiably asked.

"I need the access code to the confidential file room. One of these idiots shot the founder before we could use him. You give me that and I'll send out someone with the wounded guy." Without giving Travis time to reply, he hung up.

"Alright, lets get that code. They can do what they want with what's in the office, but they aren't getting out." Turning from the van, he saw Wes walking purposefully towards him.

"I know what you're thinking, and it's a bad idea," Travis said meeting him halfway.

"And I know the inter-workings and cameras of this building better than anyone else here could learn them in the next six hours, and we both know that we don't have that kind of time. Freeze their cameras on the images they are on now, and let me go up the back stairs and cut around the side to the board room," Wes reasoned. Travis knew he was right. There was no possible way in without alerting them they were coming, and Wes' knowledge of the building couldn't be ignored.

Slowly nodding his head, he said, "okay, but Captain Sutton is going to have my head. This is against a direct order, so you convince him. And you don't go in there alone. Take what Captain gives you." Wes wasn't in the mood to argue, or to analyze this power change and what they would need to digest in therapy. He wanted to get Alex out. Instead, he pulled out his phone and dialed the captain. It was time to set something straight, but he knew, he was going in there, one way or another.

/

"Just stay calm, okay? We're going to be okay," Alex muttered under her breath to her colleague next to her. Even as she said the words, she questioned herself. The situation said anything but 'we're going to be okay,' and she knew it. The throbbing ache on the side of her head reminded her of that. She was terrified. They shot Dan - she closed her eyes tightly, trying in vain to block out the sound - and had no qualms about getting rough with them, as her aching head reminded her.

She had a reason to hope, though. The big one said Dan had been talking to the police. If that was true, Wes would be coming. Wes would protect her, make it all better. The phone call from LAPD confirmed it - if Travis was here, so was Wes, and as much as it pained her to admit it, Wes still loved her. Even after all she put him through, he would protect her, because that's what you do for those you love.

So she told herself to keep her head - Wes would be coming soon.

/

"No. No, no, no. I gave a direct order, and I don't like being questioned on it. My decision is final, Wes," Captain Sutton said.

"But Captain," Wes tried to argue. "I know this building. I know the camera blind spots, the offices, hell, the damn air ducts. Let me lead a team in.

"Our guys are good, but a situation like this needs someone who knows what to do and where to go. I can set aside my personal concerns for the good of the group. Seventeen other people depend on me Captain, and I won't forget that." Wes held his breath as he waited for Sutton to say something.

Finally, he did. "If any other one of my detectives asked me this, I wouldn't even consider hearing their point of view, but because this is you, I'm going to say okay. Don't think though, that I've given you immunity! You still report to me, got it?" Captain asked sternly. Wes nodded before he remembered the captain couldn't see him. Pulling himself together, he agreed wholeheartedly, and after thanking him, hung up and ran over to Travis, who was giving orders to a tactical group. Just he walked up, the group dispersed.

"Something Greg said during the call: 'one of these idiots.' Now, does that sound like a tight-knit group to you? If we can separate the other two, or at least one of them, from Greg, we can turn them against each other to our advantage," Travis related to his partner.

"And how do we do that?" inquired Wes, though he agreed with Travis' assessment.

Wes looked upon Travis' smirk with disapproval. "I've got an idea."

/

"You got that code?" a less sure, less cocky voice said as it answered on the first ring.

"I've got somethin' for ya, but I don't think I know you. What's your name?" Travis asked with ease. The other man hesitated.

"Raleigh." Travis, Wes, and the rest of the LAPD huddled around the screen showing the inside of the board room. Raleigh was alone, the other two out patrolling the rest of the floor and stairwell.

"Raleigh, I just got a few quick questions for ya. You don't even need to call Greg and the other guy in." Travis took the man's lack of reply as his cue to move forward.

"Greg put you in charge of the hostages, right? He must trust you a lot to give you a job that big," he tested. Raleigh grunted and said, "yeah, a true friend."

"Whoa there! I'm sensing some hard feelings. Believe it or not, I know how you feel," Travis said, sneaking a glance at Wes, who was watching him with those critically curious eyes. "You bust your balls trying to do everything right, but your partner doesn't even notice all the good stuff you do, just points out all you do wrong. And then there's the medial, unimportant tasks because he doesn't trust you to do any of the big stuff right, but you know, _you know_, that you can do it! Doesn't that make you mad?" Travis exclaimed, his eyes fixed on the monitor to gauge the man's reaction.

Bingo.

Shifting from foot to foot, Raleigh began to pace around the board room, then lunged forward to the phone in the middle of the room, grabbing it from its receiver and holding it to his ear, taking it off speaker. There was some stirrings between the hostages, and Wes' heart swelled with pride when he watched Alex silently calm the group with pointed looks and small touches.

That feeling of pride quickly morphed into horror when he saw the large bruise covering the left side of her face. They had hurt her. Rage began to boil within him.

"Travis," he said, his voice that scary calm ('calm before the storm,' as his partner often liked to call it). "Let's end this."

"What do you want me to do?" the man's voice on the other end asked.

/

Tailed by three SWAT members, Wes began advancing into the building. The four heavily armed men began their advance up the back service stairwell. Travis was again on the phone with Raleigh, convincing him to leave the hostages to check on Greg to make sure he was divvying up his share of the money. Somehow, the charismatic cop had gotten him to tell of the plot to take the bank account and social security numbers of the high profile clients in the safe. Ten minutes prior, when they had given Greg the code, the man had sent down another hostage with Dan Rodger, who was immediately rushed to the hospital. As much as Wes was glad to see two hostages safe (relatively, in Dan's case), he couldn't rejoice until Alex was out.

Like Wes had suggested earlier, the tech squad froze the security screens inside the building with images of empty stairwells and hallways as they made their advance upward. Another tactical team followed behind them, stopping at the floor below as Wes and the three others stood behind the door leading to the fifteenth floor.

If he had not of hesitated a moment, he wouldn't of heard the soft padding of footsteps coming up the stairwell behind them.

"You didn't honestly think I was going to let you Godzilla this one on your own, did you?" Travis asked, slightly panting from running up fifteen flights of stairs. Wes only smirked and let Travis fall in line next to him, the three SWAT members taking a support role as immediate back up. Pressing through the door, Wes led Travis through the open desk area from camera and file room blind spot to blind spot, pushing aside memories of how he and Alex learned all the hidden office nooks and crannies. Crouching, gun raised in the same spot he and his ex-wife would steal small kisses throughout the work day actually centered him. He was here because someone threatened her, and he wasn't going to take that lying down.

The silent cues between the two partners lead them to split up. Travis and two SWAT guys swung back to the file room, where all three of the perps should be, while Wes and the remaining SWAT member released the hostages. Wes had been torn between going straight after the guys responsible for hurting Alex and going to Alex directly, so Travis made the decision for him. As much as he trusted his partner, he was a tad bit concerned how things would play out if Wes got his hands on the man who had hit Alex.

Quietly taking the chair away from underneath the board room doorknob, Wes eased open the door. A universal sigh escaped through the room as everyone saw not only someone who wasn't one of their captures, but a familiar face come through. Wes silenced their exclamations and words by bringing finger to his lips, and after his SWAT back up confirmed the coast was clear, the began ushering the hostages through the door to the stairwell to be received by the tactical team who were now waiting for them.

As each hostage passed, he or she patted or squeezed Wes' arm in thanks, their eyes silently saying, "so good to see you again." Alex situated herself in the back and was the last to walk through. The two paused and locked eyes, everything else fading to the backdrop for a moment.

"I knew you'd come," she whispered, seeking his hand for comfort.

"I'm sorry it wasn't soon enough," he said back, his fingers ghosting over the darkening bruise on her otherwise flawless face. A low, stern voice broke their spell, reminding Wes to keep moving towards the stairs while the area was still clear. As they followed the rest of the hostages out, Travis ran out from the file room.

"There are two bodies, shot execution style in the back. Greg wasn't there," Travis whispered to him, his eyes on the lookout for any movement. There it was.

"GET HER OUR OF HERE!" Wes screamed at his SWAT back up as he simultaneously handed her off and unholstered his gun, ignoring Alex's screams for him, or the image of SWAT lifting her and carrying her down the stairs as she desperately reached for him.

Greg ran toward them like a mad man, firing his gun carelessly. The onslaught of bullets drove the pair to duck for cover as they too emptied their magazines. The slam of the stairwell door, told him Alex was safe, and locking eyes and nodding to Travis from across the isle, Wes stood and fired relentlessly.

/

Amidst the crowd outside the building, Alex stood in shock, the rest of reality whirling around her. Everyone was moving around, giving statements, hugging each other, moving over to the medics, and she was rooted in place, staring at the building she had once felt safe in.

Two words then broke her from her thoughts, broke her trance, broke her heart.

"OFFICER DOWN!" someone from a van screamed, signaling two medics to rush up the stairs, led by two more armed deputies.

A familiar arm caught her before she collapsed onto the ground, pulling her up and against against him.

"Lie to me, Frankie," Alex whispered. "Tell me he's okay," she begged, tears rolling down her cheeks. The old man smiled sadly, remembering the conversation with her ex less than an hour ago.

"There are four others in there," he tried to reassure her, channelling his own fear elsewhere and feeling guilty hoping some other family would be burdened with the pain.

_This was why I had to leave_, Alex thought, more tears falling. The divorce wasn't because they fought over his career - they had their fair share of fighting before. It wasn't because they stopped loving each other - she very much loved him still, and he somehow felt just as strongly for her now as he did years ago, despite all she put him through. It was the constant fear of this - Wes dying on the job - that forced her to leave him. She loved him, loved his passion for taking care of others, but he could help others as a lawyer, like he had been doing perfectly for years. Law was safe - law enforcement was anything but.

The dreams of Travis knocking on her door at some odd hour of the night, Travis handing her a folded flag, a 21 gun salute had her waking up in cold sweats to find him lying next to her with bandages and bruises that hadn't been there the morning before pushed her over the edge.

Now it was actually happening, but worse, because she watched it. She closed her eyes and saw him diving behind a desk for cover, whip around and fire his gun. The next image to wash over her was dark crimson spreading over his blue dress shirt as he lay lifeless on the floor of her law firm.

She turned in Frankie's embrace and sobbed.

_A/N~ Another cliff hanger - sorry! Send me a review - I love them! Thank you so much to everyone who has shown this story and me support! :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N~ I'm sorry to keep you all waiting so long! That was horrible of me. Here is the final chapter of this short story. I appreciate all the support and excitement I have received throughout this story more than I can say. Thanks everybody!_

Flying down the steps after Travis assured him he would take point on the rest of the case, Wes reached the ground floor in record time. Brushing off a few officers, he searched the crowd for Alex. Logically, he knew that coming out with SWAT, she was safe, but at the moment, he wasn't in the mood to be logical. To him, the divorce papers were just that - papers. To him, Alex was still his wife. And husbands weren't very logical when their wives were danger.

Wes caught Frankie's eye as he scanned the crowd, and though he knew he should go say something to the older man, he went to skip over him before he realized the woman tucked into his side, shielding her tears in his arm like she had done with him many a time. Pushing his way through the crowd of hostages and police officers, Wes ran to Alex. Frankie whispered something to her that made her look up and turn around while Wes was still a few steps away, and the moment she saw him, she threw herself into his arms, the first time in a long time.

Having her in his arms again felt like coming home. Holding Alex to him as tight as he could, Wes released his first deep breath since the car ride there. Taking a moment to just hold her and not think, Wes inhaled the jasmine smell of her hair, fondly remembering the day he had told her it was his favorite; she wore it everyday since. Those were happy days.

A jumble of words coming from her mouth led him to pull back from her just slightly enough that he could see her face.

". . . yelled 'officer down' and I thought," she hiccuped, "I thought you . . ." and she broke into more tears. In that minute, her worst nightmare, the one that drove them apart, was happening. The idea of Wes getting killed on the job made her almost physically ill - she loved him too much to sanely allow herself to picture it.

Immediately catching onto her train of thought, Wes began to fiercely wipe away her tears and tuck her into his chest again, enveloping her in his arms.

"I'm here, I'm here," he whispered into her ear, continuing to alternate between words of reassurance and small kisses to her temple. Alex's sobs started to even out, and her tears soon dissipated, but that didn't draw them apart. Both of them forgot, for just a moment, that they weren't divorced, that they hadn't lived together in over a year, that they each had tried to move on. Just like the night they soothed Hudson to sleep a few weeks ago, they fell back into their old life so easily, so comfortably, it was almost like nothing had happened to pull them apart, and they cherished it.

A new wave of commotion caused Wes to look up and see the medics wheel the wounded SWAT member out, and he shifted his body slightly to eliminate the risk of Alex seeing it. He wasn't too concerned about the guy, seeing as he was sitting up in the bed and arguing with one of the medics about the hit to his leg only being a minor graze.

Speaking of paramedics . . .

"Alex, lets go have someone take a look at the bruise," he said softly, but leaving no room for argument in his tone. He kicked himself for not doing that right away. It was probably nothing, but it could be something, and even though he shouldn't worry, he did. Because that's what good husbands do.

To his relief, she nodded, obviously not up for the emotional onslaught of a fight. To his even greater relief, she didn't completely let go of him as they walked over to an ambulance. Travis had Flannigan call in several - just in case - but thankfully, they only needed two, and the others were there merely as support. As a medic began assessing Alex's delicate cheek, Wes took a step back, though not far enough to have to drop her hand. He stood out of the way, trying to organize his thoughts, classify his feelings and the situation.

What had Travis told (yelled) at him just a few weeks ago in one of their sessions? _You keep everything inside of you. _The next recall made him physically cringe, the sharp pain the words inflicted still there. _No wonder Alex left you._

No. That was all going to change - he could see this working out, doing it right, and he'd be damned if he messed it up again.

Gazing upon his (ex) wife as the medic applied some kind of cream to the cut beneath her eye and another handed her two small pills (for the swelling, he caught even in his daze), he told himself that he'd win her back again, that this time, she would fall in love with Detective Wes Mitchell instead of Wes Mitchell, JD.

/

Alex could feel his eyes on her as she told the medics what had happened to her face, and stood there, holding Wes' hand, as they began their work. She started to shift beneath his hard gaze, and looked everywhere but at him, holding back tears she prayed he didn't see.

_I left him,_ she thought. _No, I kicked him out,_ remembering the day that all she could see was red when he came home, four hours late without calling, and blowing off her concern. She remembered suddenly stopping her screams, and telling him with too much calm in her voice to leave. She didn't want to be his wife anymore.

_I don't deserve this_, she told herself as he squeezed her hand when she hissed because of the pain in her cheek.

"Ms. Mitchell, you're good to go." Absentmindedly thanking the paramedic, Alex finally turned to Wes. Immediately, he pulled her back into his arms, and she clung to him just as tightly.

"Are you okay?" he whispered into her ear, just like he would do when they were married, and again she felt herself calm down at the sound of his deep, low voice. She nodded her head in response, then thought better of it. It was time to put everything on the table. So she shook her head.

"No."

/

"Travis and Wes, you two have been exceptionally quiet this afternoon. I was at the least expecting some sort of response to Clyde's assessment of the new developments with his mother. Is there something weighing on you both?" Dr. Ryan asked with a slight tilt of her head. Right as Travis looked at Wes, Wes looked down, taking an immediate interest in his shoes. Without moving his eyes from the other man's profit, Travis elbowed his partner once, twice, three times before saying, "I guess I'll start."

"Excellent. Thank you, Travis." But he said nothing.

"Alex was a hostage in a robbery," Wes supplied after the lengthy silence. He took a deep breath and continued, pretending like it wasn't a big deal and that he was okay, wishfully thinking that they would believe him – or at least, not call his bluff.

"We got the call, went in, got everyone out and safe. Caught the guy, too. It was a win," he supplied, going back to finding tiny spots on his shoes.

"And how did you feel, while Alex was in danger," Dr. Ryan asked.

"How did I feel, what do you mean, how did I feel? Of course I was terrified." He was suddenly agitated now. "I watched as a guy held a gun to my wife's head, how would you feel?" The moment he said the words, he regretted it. Everyone was looking at him with those pitying eyes that came out each time Alex came up.

"Wes, Alex is no longer your wife," Dr. Ryan started tentatively.

"They sure did look the part yesterday," Travis said, still looking at his partner.

"Travis," Wes said warningly. The rest of the group shifted in their chairs, anxious to hear more. "Turns out she was just as worried something happened to me after we got her out as I was worried about her. We are," he coughed and tried to play it down. "We're having dinner tonight. Just to, you know, make sure we have all the details straight for the official report." Everyone chuckled, and Wes just rolled his eyes.

"What happened during the hostage negotiation?" Dr. Ryan asked, noting a slightly different interaction between the two cops.

Travis was about to respond when Wes cut in again. "Travis actually handled the whole thing. Talked to the suspects, coordinated the tech and SWAT teams, and organized the post-crisis affairs. I uh, I meant to tell you yesterday, but thank you." Travis grinned, not only at Wes' praise (or as much praise as Wes ever gave), but his embarrassment at showing generosity and being the one in need for once. Dr. Ryan smiled too.

"So Wes, has this situation proven to you that Travis is capable of handling serious situations, and perhaps in the future, you can allot more trust in his abilities?" she asked hopefully.

"Oh, Travis is capable alright. I just question if he would step up to the plate unless he absolutely needed to."

Dr. Ryan sighed and Travis rolled his eyes. "Baby steps, gentlemen."

/

Wes couldn't help but smirk when Alex opened up the door. Apparently, she had forgotten that in the five years they were married, he had caught onto what kind of clothes she wore when she wanted to look good without appearing like she tried too hard.

"Hi," she said, stepping to the side to let him in. He returned the sentiment and let himself in, putting the wine bottle he brought with him (her favorite) for dinner in the cooler like they always would. His ease around he house was unsettling right after the divorce, and to some extent was a bit awkward still, but at least he knew what to do. They stood in uncomfortable silence just looking at the other before they broke it at the same time.

"So, I -"

"Look, there's-"

"Let's sit outside," Wes offered after a pause. "It's nice outside."

"You just want to make sure I haven't completely destroyed your hard work in the yard," she joked, figuring the night would only be as awkward as they made it.

"No comment," he replied smirking. Settling on the love seat together watching the sun set was something they had done quite often as a married couple. It surprised both of the that their conversation flowed so easily. The elephant the room didn't make an appearance until Alex muffled a yawn and Wes realized how late it was. Making up some lame excuse to get going, he began to stand when a light tug on his arm brought him back down next to her.

"Wes, I -" she started, then paused. Her ex-husband waited in disbelief. Alex never struggled for words. For the most part, he didn't either (Travis' stupidity was the only thing that made him speechless), and communication between the two of them was easy. At the moment though, Alex seemed nervous, even a little afraid.

She couldn't help blushing slightly and dropping her eyes when he turned his body towards her, drawing in a breath that made his hard chest rise as he sized her up.

"Wes, I was terrified yesterday. Really, I was. Let me finish," she added raising her hands to signal him to hold onto whatever thought he was about to voice. "It reminded me of the reasons I couldn't stay married to you." Wes ducked his head. He braced himself for the crushing he berated himself for walking into. Her soft hands cupping his jaw were another surprise, but he couldn't meet her eyes and hear her tell him she still wanted to be separated.

"But I realized that no matter how much I try to hold you at arms length or how long we're not together, I'm always going to love my husband." He snapped his eyes up to see Alex's eyes watering, but a small - loving - smile on her lips and in her eyes. "I've hurt you so much, and I'm so sorry. So, so, sorry. I'm sorry I didn't realize that I'd rather have you with me and worry about you instead of worry alone. I mean, if you still love me too." The words had barely left her lips when his attacked hers. Alex was only thrown off guard for a second before she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back.

"I still love you," he whispered against her lips when they finally broke apart. "I didn't stop, couldn't." She nodded, silencing him again.

"So, I guess I can stop paying rent on that hotel suite?" he asked playfully (and hopefully). She laughed.

"I'll fire that new handyman tomorrow morning," she replied.

"Make it tomorrow afternoon," Wes said as he pulled her against him.

_A/N~ Ta da! Finished. Tell me what you think of the story - I LOVE reviews! Thanks for sticking with this story!_

_xoxo_

_fanatic218_


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